The message she found

Today’s Daily Writing Prompt is:


The night had been amazing, perfect even.  This was her first big party with him, his entrance into her world.   Everyone’s eyes were on her & the new man at her side.  They danced the night away. Any reservations that she had about him drifted away as his arms wrapped around her.  Now they were sitting at the bar, tucked away in a quiet corner.  He excused himself for a moment, looking back over his shoulder as he walked away.

The phone on the bar vibrated .  She looked around for him, but he was nowhere in sight.  It vibrated again.  There was no reason why she shouldn’t pick it up.  Isn’t that what couples did?  And they were a couple, that much was obvious after tonight.  Her had stretched out toward the phone.  The phone vibrated for a third time as her fingers closed around it.  She flipped it over just as another text message appeared on the screen.  Too bad I couldn’t be there with you tonight.  Can’t wait to see you later!


Five Minute Friday: She

20130823-155504.jpg  Five Minute Fridays were created by Lisa Jo Baker as a way for writers to get together every Friday & share their ideas on a single prompt.  Today’s prompt is: She.


It was cold in the living room when I awoke with a start.  I sat up and listened carefully to the sound of the wind howling and the crackling of the fire’s dying embers.  A tree branch scrapped across the window behind me and I paused.  After a few more moments of listening and a few deep breaths, I settled back into the couch.  There was nothing in my family home to be afraid of.

It had been years since I slept in this house.  As I stood up, I tried to recall the last time.  It must have been the Christmas holidays just after mother died, five years earlier.  I had rarely been home since her death, only for the occasional holiday to appease my sister.  I walked down the familiar hallway toward my mother’s study.

I enter the room slowly, careful not to disturb the sanctity I have always associated with the study.  This was her temple, her church, her sanctuary.  This was the only place she could truly escape to.  I can see my mother curled up in her leather club chair, blanket spread over her legs, so immersed in another world that you could stand in the doorway and go unnoticed for hours.

The musty scent of old paper permeates the air.  I circle the room, running my hands along the books stacked haphazardly on shelves.  A thin layer of dust over the mahogany desk is the only indication that the room is now vacant.

A worn volume rests on the table next to her chair.  I pick it up and run my hand over the frayed cover; Rebecca, her favorite.  I open the book to where the bookmark still notes her place.

A cream paper floats to the floor at my feet.  I stoop to pick it, unfolding it as a I straighten.  I immediately note the flowing curve of the letters, the perfect alignment of words.  I would know that handwriting anywhere.  Cora, it begins.  My hands begin to shake and I sink into her chair.


Five Minute Friday: Red

Every Friday Lisa-Jo Baker posts a writing prompt & invites anyone to spend 5 minutes writing on it. You can find full details here. Im late, but this week’s prompt was: Red.


Red is the color of blood. I am scared to death of needles & pass out at the first sign of pain. So I am the most surprised that a single drop blood should so fascinate me, excite me,
pleasure me.

When I started, it was like candy. Forbidden. I’m not even sure that it had to with pain, which is what is most associated with. Though I look back & if was about release. And release from pain is what it’s really about. Or that’s what the studies say.

Now, it’s more about punishment. I’ve done something wrong. Or if I haven’t, or don’t know about it, I will have done something. And I deserve it.


PS. I recently finished Gillian Flynn’s sharp objects. So please don’t worry or stage an intervention. I saw “Red” & followed the protagonist.